


Forgiven

by jehanna



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 06:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanna/pseuds/jehanna
Summary: Artur and Joshua train during a night in Carcino.(For FE Rarepair Week 2017, prompt: relax)





	Forgiven

So rarely were there times like these in the growing war. Battles were constant, their every movement often hounded by Gradan forces. If not soldiers, then bandits. If not bandits, then monsters. But luck must have finally been upon them, because the weather was well, the paths clear, and not an enemy in sight. No one truly let their guard down a moment, of course. And above their march, pegasus knights scouted the land ahead.

In the end, it wasn’t necessary. Everyone silently appreciated the break, as it meant they would travel further given they had no interruptions. And even now, when night had started to fall, the peace remained. Campfires lit as always but with more people to them, looking livelier than they have lately. And those who didn’t were likely happy to catch extra rest.

Typically, Artur would be among the latter, sometimes the former. But it felt wrong to sit and relax just yet, given the direness of their mission. They were marching to Jehanna as fast as they could possibly manage while keeping the army ready and in good health. But the matter of the fact hung over the air, that Jehanna Hall was bordering on falling. That they couldn’t confirm the queen’s safety.

The weather had been poor, as Saleh said was common on this side of the mountain range. But tonight it was different, clear as day and maybe a little humid as they were growing so close to the desert, but there was a good enough breeze to even it out. They set camp in the open plains of Carcino, too far from Jehanna to see it but near enough to feel it.

“Kept me waiting.”

They hadn't done this in awhile, all thanks to the aforementioned weather and exhaustion. Tired as he were, he did miss it. It’d become routine, after all.

“You’re just here early.”

At the reply, Joshua smirks, coin he’d been flipping idly stopping dead in his hand. He pockets it, then pulls his sword from its hilt with the same hand. Letting the sheath fall from his belt to the ground, they walk some ways to the side, where the ground was flatter behind the small hill where the camp sat.  It was growing dark, but still bright enough.

“You first?”

“As always.”

“...Ready.”

It was hard to start a duel with magic, so sudden it was about impossible to avoid it, so he had always gone first. With only a heartbeat worth of time to prepare, Joshua lunges first, sword in hand. The silver tip is centered on him, but Artur ducks to the side, tome already open and hand drawing invisible sigils into the air. Lightning strikes the earth where he was, weak and faint and quick, Joshua backing away on his heel. Not even a sound to accompany it, the light of the magic was just faint enough to not catch any attention.

Another lunge, another dodge, so on and so on. Artur’s grown too used to dodging blades and blows. Joshua had, and still did have trouble fighting mages, it was the reason they’d started doing this. That much hadn’t changed, as the battle continues on and Joshua had only dodged his attacks 3 times.  None had hit, but they counted each time it just missed his feet or nicked the end of his coat.

Unlike the patterns in swordplay, Artur was told, you couldn’t detect well when a mage would attack. You can tell when a swordsman starts a stance, or an archer pulls back a bow, or the adjustment of a lance in hand. But a spell is an invocation, one not needed verbally. A mage could cast a spell without even moving, without ever giving hint when it would occur. According to Joshua, that was what made it so difficult to dodge.

Raised hand pointed down, lightning falls from the sky at Artur's fingertips-- but different this time, Joshua can’t back away in time. The spark hits him, not strong enough to do any real damage but a hit nonetheless. He stumbles, hand over the spot it hit.

Fatigue overpowered by worry, Artur drops the tome to the ground and says to stop. The concern proves a mistake, as at the first step forward Joshua had already gone to attack again regardless of the injury, leaving no time to dodge. He closes his eyes and tenses, quickly remembering the first few times they’d done this where he actually _had_ been wounded, albeit mistakenly and only mildly. The metal never hits his skin however as Joshua turns the sword away last second, using his free hand to push Artur aside. He stumbles, but stays upright. Ungraceful, but it’s not like they were trying to impress anyone.

There’s a silent agreement that the battle is over, like anytime they get injured. Artur stands, waiting for his pulse to slow and breaths turn steady, pushing sweaty bangs from his forehead. Joshua’s much the same, looking upward and catching his breath. “I win?”

“Really?” Not that it was a contest, it always ended the same way, both of them standing huffing and flushed. They'd both only grown better from it. Artur manages a smile, though the air burns his sinuses. “Unlike you, I didn’t get hit.”

“You almost did.” But he didn’t, and he notices the slight grimace when Joshua looks over. Artur steps forward, and Joshua tips his head back so he can see, given he can’t see the injury himself. “What is it?”

A bruise is spread where his neck meets his shoulder, fresh and light but growing. It meant the magic only hit the skin and didn't penetrate any deeper, it wouldn’t require any healing. “Just a bruise...Should I get a vulnerary?”

“Nah.” He shrugs, cringes at the shoot of pain along his collarbones. A bruise, while not serious, still hurt. He turns to walk back to camp, turning back and pausing for Artur follow. The monk doesn’t want to move just yet, but supposes the elevated land between them and the camp isn’t all that far.

When they reach the top, the grass longer and rustling against their knees, Joshua bends over to get his sword’s sheath before falling over into to the grass. Again, Artur almost panics before the other crosses his arms behind his head and any words he had turned into an amused snort. “What are you doing?”

“What? It’s nice out, and tents are stuffy.” He closes his eyes, letting an arm go to pat the ground beside him. “You too.”

Artur obliges, sitting with his legs folded underneath him. From the top of the hill, the breeze is stronger, refreshingly cold to counter his body heat.

The borders between countries were always strange, though likely only because Artur had never seen one before these travels. They were only where Jehanna technically met Carcino, with no sands in sight and Caer Palyn’s mountain range still a faint silhouette in the distance. But you could still feel Jehanna’s presence, as the air grew hotter and there were lost grains of sand among the grass, where storms carried them.

Carcino, though often forgotten, was awfully beautiful. Especially at night, with the sky a blunt change of purple to orange and open plains as far as the eye could see.  The sky was much clearer on this side of the mountains, before having been a mess of clouds and rapidly changing weather.

A comfortable silence settles quickly. There’s little sound save for the light ruffle of grass against clothes and occasional hints of insects chirping. It’s still chilly, but pleasantly. The last hints of orange in the sky are starting to fade to blue, and the purple to black.

“We’re so close to Jehanna…” Artur isn’t sure what makes him speak now, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on them.  “What’s it like?”

“Depends.” Joshua replies, proving he hadn’t fallen asleep like Artur would have suspected. Good, because there was no way he could carry him back, and no way he’d leave him out here. “Which part of it?”

“The land...? We’ll be travelling it soon.”

“Hot, obviously. I’m used to it, but I wonder how the others will fare.” Suddenly, he smirks. “Best find a hood or something, if I were you, I can’t stop that pale skin of yours from burning.”

“Wouldn’t that work against you? Keeping heat trapped…” Though that sounded worse, Artur rather enjoyed the modest comfort of his robes, and to take off even just the top one made him uncomfortable.

“Do you want to be sweaty and battle? Or have severe burns and battle?”

The answer was obvious enough, so Artur doesn’t give one.

“Sand can be annoying too, I guess. Gets your shoes and burns your feet, but I remember sleeping in it is the worst. You’ll find it everywhere on you for weeks.”

“...I’m not looking forward to this battle.”

“Neither am I.”

Finding he was losing circulation to his legs, Artur finally lays down as well, beside him.

“...It’s your homeland, though. Haven’t you said you haven’t been back in years?”

Joshua doesn’t reply at first, and he feels a pang of guilt. Did he hit a nerve? Was he pressing too much?

“Worried, I guess.” Joshua breathes a sigh through his nose, shifting with his arms resting across his chest. Artur turns on his side to face him, though he doesn’t do the same, eyes still on the bright stars. “I imagine things are a mess right now.”

Right. Grado’s forces were already there, already in the capital. It was just a matter of how quickly they could get there, and how far their prayers would carry.

“Lady Eirika said they couldn’t confirm the safety of the queen, right?”

Another sigh, deeper. “Yeah, I think so.”

“...But, that doesn’t mean she’s been harmed.”

Joshua finally turns to face him, muscles tensing around his wound with a look of confusion on his face.

“She could be safe and a captive, just as likely as she could be in danger...Maybe it’s not too comforting, but there’s hope, right?...If...If that is what you worried about.”

“...Yes and no.” Joshua turns back. “I want to think so...But I’m worried about what’ll happen after.”

“After we get there?”

“After this whole war.”

Blinking a few times, Artur waits for him to elaborate, and he doesn’t. His expression hasn’t changed, but the myrmidon’s stare had hardened, repointed at the sky, not bothering to hide it.

“Why’s that?...Peace will be restored by then, recovery may be difficult...But no more difficult than what we do now.”

Quiet, tense silence not comfortable like the last. An apology is almost said before a reply comes.

“You know about the Prince of Jehanna, right?”

Artur had read miscellaneous books on Magvel’s past, but the monastery library had little information on Jehanna. Something for the future, he supposes. “I’m not familiar, I’m afraid.”

“That’s just it. There isn’t one.”

"T...There’s no heir, you mean?” He resists the urge to sit up in surprise. “So if Queen Ismaire perishes, then…”

“No, no, there was one.” Joshua explains. “But he disappeared.”

“Disappeared...As in, he was taken?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs against the ground. “Rumor has he shirked his duties and fled the palace as a lad, he never came back. No one knows if he’s alive, or dead, or...something else.”

It wasn’t like Joshua to sound so distant, so... serious. He was never this cold, even in the face of danger. Not that Artur had seen...' _He really cares about his country, doesn't he?'_

“...Do you think he’ll come back?”

“You think he’s alive?”

Artur was an optimist, he'd like to hope his optimism was right. “You said no one knows. It’s not impossible.”

“...If I'm being honest, I almost hope he **doesn’t** come back.”

“R...really…?” Artur mutters, taken a little off guard by the unusual tone. At least, unusual for the other.

“Think about it, would you want someone like that to rule Renais?” Back on his side, Joshua props himself up on one elbow, expression his typical, but somehow...off.  Unlike him, like it was straining him to make. “Someone who just abandons his responsibilities like that? Who won’t even own up to them and return? Could someone like really run a country?”

It’s Artur turn to think, turning those words over in his head. Would he…? It made sense, that someone like that might not be fitting as a king. And it wasn’t as though he knew much about all this, about how nobility worked.

“You said he left when he was a child?”

“As far as anyone knows.”

“Then...Can he really be blamed?” Artur says. He frankly didn’t think so.

“...What?”

“He was only a child. He might not of known the weight of his actions...He couldn’t have.”

Joshua moves to speak, but Artur continues.

“Don't many people do foolish things in their youth?...Erm, perhaps not so drastic, but it’s a time when you know so little of how the world works.” His words come off more wistful than anything, likely because he can relate. Artur had never stepped foot outside of his village until this war, never seen anything past the forest that he and Lute loved to play in as children. It’s a nice memory, in the midst of this. “And we know so little of the situation...He must know things we don’t, that we can’t find out. Maybe he had good reasons for what he did.”

Joshua sits up with a huff, arms now resting on his knees. “Like what?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m not a prince.” He offers a small smile, trying to lighten the mood “And maybe he’s changed in these several years. Many here have changed considerably in just months...myself included.”

He liked to think he was braver, that he was somewhat wiser. That should something like this ever happen again, he could protect others. That he could protect people like Lute and Neimi and Eirika, Tethys even...even Joshua, who typically stood in front of _him_ in battle. Artur weakened enemies from a distance, Joshua finished them off. A strategy that just grew naturally since they had begun to fight together. But it was too often that Artur pondered whether he was a burden or not.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s still gone. That things got this far, and the coward still hasn’t come back.”

“Maybe so.” From the corner of his eye, there’s a small speck of light. A firefly. It was later than Artur realized, and the ground was turning cold. “Maybe he is a coward. But what crime has he committed other than his disappearing?

...He could still come back...He could still do what he hasn’t yet done, couldn’t he? Just...not yet. It’s beyond what we can ever know...Much like this war, we can only hope...I’m sure, if the prince is a good person, he regrets what’s done.”

Joshua’s eyes stay fixated on the ground. Thinking, Artur guesses.

“...If you were him, wouldn’t you want to be understood and forgiven?”

The myrmidon goes quiet, eyes closed. But then he smiles, gasping a small laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing, just...That’s exactly what I thought you'd say.” Joshua says. “Maybe you’re right. Guess I need to cut this missing prince some slack, huh?”

“You’ll have to,” Artur jokes, “he’ll be your king.”

Finally, thankfully, that wordless, soundless peace returned. Though they couldn’t sit there long, the moon was about straight above them and the land was turning dark. The distant firelight of their camp was fading by the minute.

“We should probably go now.”

“You’re right.”

Joshua stands first, dusting off his clothing. And offers Artur a hand, pulling him up with him. They’re about to walk when Artur pauses, that look of concern on his face once again. He steps forward, hand brushing close to the injury, focusing and not seeing the flustered look Joshua sends him. The bruise was growing darker, larger, swelling blue against his tan skin. “Are you sure you don’t want me to heal that?”

“I told you, don’t worry about it.” Joshua gives him a good natured pat on the back, tugging him close for a moment before releasing, earning him a soft smile before they turn to finally leave. Artur’s slightly ahead of him, unable to see the way his expression tightens, unable to hear words muttered to the open air. His chest feels as light as it does guilty.

( _"wouldn’t you want to be understood and forgiven?")_

If only such a thing were possible, he thinks.

**Author's Note:**

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